


Blue Velvet

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24416497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: "I talked to three people in there, and they all seemed to think we were…""That happened to me, too."There was no sound but the snow crunching beneath their feet on the path."You didn't say anything to give them that impression?"
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 342
Collections: Writing Rainbow Make Up Round





	Blue Velvet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



"You must be so proud of your husband." 

Jaskier nearly slopped wine down the front of his doublet. "My—my what?" 

"That lovely man over there." She gestured to Geralt, who was standing by the door, looking very much like he wanted to leave. Well, Jaskier wasn't ready to leave. Besides, there was no reason for him to wait around for Jaskier. Just because Jaskier had been here to sing Geralt's praises didn't mean he had to stay if he was miserable. It was almost as though Geralt was trying to show off his tunic of blue velvet. He could not fathom why he'd bought it. 

"I am very proud of him," he said. "But we're not… we're not married." 

"Oh!" The woman—Jaskier could not remember what she was countess of, but he thought she was countess of something—fingered her brooch. "Does that mean he's available then?" 

"Oh, I wouldn't," Jaskier said, shaking his head sadly. "His flatulence problem is getting ever more severe." 

He extricated himself before she could ask further questions and force him to come up with further answers. 

"Aren't you ready to leave?" Geralt asked when Jaskier made his way over to him. 

"I am now." Jaskier could not help but reach out to finger Geralt's sleeve. He did so like the feel of velvet. 

"I'll get your cloak." Geralt vanished to wherever the cloaks were kept. Once he'd retrieved it, he helped Jaskier on with it, which only made sense—Jaskier's hands were full of lute—and they stepped out into the cold night.

Geralt spoke first. "I talked to three people in there, and they all seemed to think we were…" 

"That happened to me, too." 

There was no sound but the snow crunching beneath their feet on the path. 

"You didn't say anything to give them that impression?" 

"Me? I thought it had to be you." Jaskier paused. "Is the idea of being with me really that bad?" 

There was a silence—almost too long. "No." 

They did not speak for the entire walk down the hill from the manor to the village where they had rooms at the inn. 

When they entered, the landlady was in a state of obvious distress. "I'm very sorry, truly," she said when Geralt had given their names and said Lord Montaire should have arranged for rooms for them. "I've only one room left. Unless you _want_ a leaky roof. I expect you don't." She smiled. "But I expect you don't mind about having to share." She gave them a rather disturbing wink and handed Geralt the key. 

"Why would she—" Jaskier began when they were on the stairs. 

"For the same reasons as all the others," Geralt muttered. 

"I don't see why they'd think that. We behave perfectly normally when we're with each other."

"You keep singing songs about me." 

"That's my _job_. I could say the same about how you keep saving me from monsters."

"That's because you keep getting in the way of my killing the monsters." Geralt stopped to unlock the door. 

Naturally, there was only one bed. 

"We'll have to make do, I suppose," Jaskier said, a bit of trepidation creeping into his voice. It wasn't a very large bed, and Geralt wasn't a very small man. 

"I suppose," Geralt echoed. 

Jaskier was tired enough that he was ready for bed with minimal bickering. Geralt seemed to be, too. They undressed; Jaskier casting only a cursory glance at Geralt's broad shoulders as the blue velvet tunic slid up over them. He would have to ask him where he'd gotten it. (It also didn't escape Jaskier's notice that Geralt left his undershirt on. Jaskier did the same. And his trousers. It would be uncomfortable to sleep in trousers but sacrifices would have to be made.) 

"You stay on your side," he said warningly, when they climbed into bed together. 

Geralt only grunted. 

They lay together in the dark, trying not to touch, when the thought occurred to Jaskier that this was ridiculous. 

"It wouldn't be so bad, would it?" he said. Geralt made a noise that wasn't exactly intrigued, but he could have pretended to be asleep. "We would save on accommodation—if we only had to pay for one bed. We could even get married. I'm sure there are… financial benefits. Of some sort. And I'm sure—" 

Geralt's mouth was on his so suddenly Jaskier forgot how to kiss back. Forgot he wanted to kiss back. 

Luckily, he soon remembered. 

And remembered he wanted Geralt's clothes off. And his own clothes off. 

He didn't even say anything—that, he thought, might spoil the mood. Though he was nearly inspired to talk when Geralt scooped him up to reposition him like he weighed nothing at all. (He could get used to that.) Indeed, Jaskier soon found another application for his mouth, one Geralt seemed to appreciate much more than his talking or even his singing. 

He supposed this because Geralt had never cried out quite like that when Jaskier was performing. 

Afterward, they lay tangled together, Jaskier wondering why he'd never before thought about resting his head on Geralt's naked chest. 

"You might be right about that," Geralt murmured, resting his right hand behind his head (his left hand was stroking Jaskier's hair). "We would save a lot on accommodations if we only needed one bed." 

"Of course I'm right," Jaskier said. "I'm always right. Usually. Sometimes." 

Geralt kissed his forehead. "Sometimes."


End file.
